They had finished off those Dollars and were forcing them to summon more members, when they noticed the expressions of their victims changing. Sensing something was wrong, they had grabbed a phone from one of the Dollars and checked his e-mail—and found a picture of their boss in what looked like a park. In the next message, there was a photo of his girlfriend.
Belatedly, they had started heading to their leader’s aid, gathering up those comrades who were healthy enough to fight along the way.
Chikage watched his gang members arrive and muttered, “Why are they here…?”
Then, he looked around and realized that somehow, he was right in the middle of the hoodlums.
“Huh…?” “Whoa!” “It’s you!”
They had been so distracted by Yumasaki’s new group that Chikage’s sudden presence startled them, and they reached out to grab him…
Except that the first one caught a kick to the groin and crumpled.
The second one lifted a two-by-four to swing, until the tip of the kabutowari cracked his two front teeth.
The third pulled a knife and tried to slash at Chikage’s arm, but his first strike hit the kabutowari’s hook, and the other man twisted hard, breaking the blade.
“Wha…brgh!”
The attacker lost his balance and got a blow directly to the face. In just moments, Chikage had knocked out three men.
“So since you’re desperate enough to take girls hostage to get what you want, I’m guessin’ you’re also desperate enough to die. Yeah?” he said menacingly.
Meanwhile, the other Toramaru members had scaled the fence and were rapidly approaching.
“Boss! You all right?!”
“No prob,” he reassured them.
Their eyes were bloodshot with rage as they asked, “Can we do all these guys, boss?”
“Hang on,” Chikage cautioned. He spun around and slammed the kabutowari against the collarbone of a man who was trying to sneak up on him from behind. “It’s kinda chaotic here, so don’t attack anyone unless they try to hit me or you guys. I’ll do the finishing blows; you just knock ’em off their feet.”
His tone of voice was lazy and matter-of-fact, but there were glimpses of fiery, demonic rage in its depths. Sensing that danger, one of the hoodlums turned away from them, trying to escape.
An arm wrapped itself around his neck.
“Who said you could run away?”
“K-Kadota…”
“C’mon, let’s enjoy this.”
Kadota slammed the hapless, gurgling goon onto the ground with a lariat and stood up, grimacing.
“…If these kinds of scumbags are coming outta the woodwork, maybe it’s time to split from the Dollars.”
One minute earlier, around the side of the storeroom
Vorona blinked at the exact moment the powerful flash happened.
She had thrown a specially modified flashbang with minimal power. Unlike the one Slon tossed outside of Shinra’s apartment, this one had no blast, just a blinding flash.
She was protected by the light-blocking film over the helmet, but the other two in the direct path of the flash would be essentially blind, even if they had closed their eyes.
The loss of their vision would last more than just a few moments, but it was not long overall. Vorona promptly moved into action, intending to inflict a wound on Anri Sonohara that would leave her immobile. She plunged her knife toward the girl’s side.
But the arm that held the katana whipped around and blocked the knife blade.
Metal rang, and the girl slid the sword downward, trying to slash Vorona’s legs. She leaped backward to evade it. Sensing that even a graze from that katana would be dangerous, she put herself at more than the usual safe distance away.
Can she see? Vorona wondered, based on the precision of the girl’s movement. She looked at her target’s face—and paused.
Anri’s eyes were shining bloodred, just like last night—even brighter, in fact.
They glowed.
That was all it took for the girl to appear alien, inhuman.
Vorona smiled. This was a being that did not exist within her knowledge.
Was she human or something else?
For a woman who lived to determine the strength and frailty of humanity, this girl and the Black Rider, alien things in human form, were extremely fascinating.
Vorona noted Mikado, who was bent over and covering his eyes, and said, “That boy appears just human. Unfortunate.”
“…If you hurt him, you will pay,” Anri threatened, eyes narrowed.
Vorona smiled and said, “Singular question. Please offer answer.”
“…?” Anri came to a momentary stop.
“Which are you, human or monster?”
“…”
Vorona approached as she waited for the answer, throwing knife jabs in between katana swipes. Anri deflected each attack and answered, “I am…neither.”
Vorona leaped abruptly to the side and pressed a switch in the handle of the knife. The blade shot out of the grip like a bullet toward Anri’s midsection.
But she simply turned and deflected the projectile away. From within the picture frame, Anri continued, “I am only a parasite.”
Anri’s eyesight hadn’t recovered by this point yet.
The flashbang burned her retinas, leaving her sense of sight just a white haze—but residing within her, Saika could still feel: the palpitation, the breath, the footsteps, the creaking muscle of her beloved humanity. Even the slight noise of the enemy’s knife cutting through air…
Saika sensed everything caused by humanity.
All thanks to her twisted love.
Vorona didn’t know about Saika, but she did realize that something about Anri’s katana was special. She had given up on the idea of breaking it, and if forced to use firearms, she was losing confidence in her ability to “get the job done without fatality.”
For one thing, injuries by gun in Japan were treated like a grave matter. All the girl had to do was hide the katana, and “a normal girl was suddenly shot by an attacker” would be all the truth that remained.
It would be major news, drastically affecting her ability to complete her job in Ikebukuro. She might find it difficult to even stay in the area, much less do her duty.
Let’s see…, Vorona thought, and decided to test Anri. She spun around, pulled a fresh knife from her waist, and headed toward Mikado, who was still bent over and rubbing his eyes.
“…!”
Anri rushed after her in a panic—but Vorona merely looked over her shoulder to make sure that the girl was following her lead.
Without her sense of sight, Anri had to rely on Saika’s senses to follow.
Based on that strange projectile knife and the flash grenade, it was unwise to fight at a distance with this foe, Saika’s experience warned her. So she obeyed and chased after Vorona to keep close.
Part of her was desperate not to see Mikado hurt as a result of this, and that urge ended up plunging her into greater chaos.
Vorona was rushing straight ahead—into the midst of the violent brawl the groups of delinquents had just started.
Somewhere in Ikebukuro
“Is that you, Aoba? Things are getting interesting over here.”
“Oh yeah?”
Aoba was getting a call from the companions he sent to keep an eye on Kadota’s fight. He listened to the report without much visible sign of emotion.
“Anyway, their crazy fight ended, they awoke to the power of friendship, then a bunch of weirdos came along with hostages, there was a huge flash somewhere, and fire, and—”
“…I can see this is my fault for assigning reconnaissance duties to you, Gin,” Aoba lamented. He paused and ordered, “Just set all that aside and tell me what you’re seeing at this very moment.”
“Oh, okay. Well, there’s a guy in a riding suit…a different person than the one in the riding suit from the factory. They just jumped in with a knife…”
“…?”
What the hell is going on over there? Aoba wondered, gauging that it might be best if they headed over to the scene, too. Then, the report through the phone got even more confusing.
“Okay, so that rider is currently…fighting a chick with a katana. Damn, what’s up with her? She, uh…I think she’s wearing red sunglasses or something… She looks like she’s our age—and she’s got some nice tits! Damn! Oh, shit, did you see that move?”
“…?”
The explanation wasn’t making any more sense, but something about it made Aoba uneasy. He told the boy to take a photo or video instead and send it over.
Less than a minute later, he opened the new message, looked at the photo attachment—and gasped.
There she was, a girl with a katana in the midst of a crowd.
It was a bit blurry, but there was enough detail for Aoba to recognize the face.
“…Miss Anri?”
A few minutes earlier, Raira Academy Field Two, street
Well, shoot.
Celty looked down from her hiding spot on a building roof.
There was a truck below: undoubtedly the same one that carried the bike of the mysterious attacker from last night.
It contained a ridiculous gun of the sort you only saw in movies, games, and documentary footage of foreign wars, and the woman had shot at her with it. It was only a day ago.
I’m sure she’s in there…
Celty hadn’t been sitting there, twiddling her thumbs when Akane left the apartment building. She took her guard job seriously and affixed a little shadow thread to the girl’s clothes, just in case. She gave the thread properties like liquid or smoke so that it wouldn’t tangle around her neck or sever a fingertip. The little black thread would stretch and stretch the more you pulled on it.
But even Celty didn’t think that this impossible means of tracking would come in vitally useful within just minutes of placing it. She followed the trail of her own shadow, pulling it back into her body—and found it leading right to that same truck.
Because she had been extremely careful, riding Shooter—who was back to motorcycle form—around from rooftop to rooftop out of sight, she was fairly certain they hadn’t noticed her tracking them.
Along the way, she startled a company worker or two trying to hide from his duties on a roof, but she made sure to give them a polite nod of the helmet. Surely that would help hush up what she was doing.
So anyway, what now? I’ve hardly ever had any experience with hostage takers…and I have no way of knowing what’s going on inside the truck.
They might have a knife pressed to Akane’s neck or a bomb tied to her so that if she tried to run free, it would blow her up.
This seemed unlikely, she had to admit, but these were the people who fired that preposterous rifle in the middle of a peaceful street. They might do anything.
And why are they here? Isn’t this…?
Just a short distance away was Raira Academy Field Two, where the girls’ soccer team and kabaddi team were practicing.
Kabaddi, huh? It looks fun. I bet I can never play, because I can’t chant, “Kabaddi, kabaddi,” like the rest of them…
She looked further beyond. At the end of the field was the roof of a storage building surrounded by trees, on the other side of which Kadota would be facing off against that strange man.
I hope he’s all right… I bet that Kyouhei guy is fine, since he seems good in a fight. The problem is Mikado’s group. Where are they now…?
She scanned the area, including the truck. Her sense of vision was similar to that of a human being’s, and in the corner of it, something flashed.
—?!
The light was clearly unnatural.
It wasn’t from a bulb of any kind, but the sort of expanding light caused by a small explosion.
The flash came from right next to the roof of the storage building. The wall around the building made it difficult to see from the direction of the field, but with her height advantage on top of the roof, Celty saw it clearly.
She expected to hear the blast a few seconds later when the sound reached her, but nothing came.
What was that…?
Sensing some foreboding, she turned her attention back to the truck parked near the entrance to the field, just in case something changed while she was preoccupied with the distraction.
Huh?
What she saw stunned her so much, she nearly leaped over the edge of the roof.
What…is he doing here? Is he going to save Kadota?!
As she watched in disbelief, a figure strode boldly through the gate of the field.
A man in a very distinctive black-and-white uniform—the kind a bartender would wear.
Beside the storeroom
It was suddenly quiet in the shadow of the storeroom.
Stuck between the bustle happening out back and the athletics on the field, one boy groaned, “Urrgh…”
Mikado was still temporarily blinded from the flash. But his hearing was fine, and he’d heard the conversation between the attacker and Anri.
“That boy appears just human. Unfortunate,” the voice had said in awkward Japanese, but he could detect the insult in it.
“Just” a human. That was it.
He wasn’t stunned by the unfairness of the attack. It was the statement.
Just a human.
That he was pronounced “just a human” was the worst shock of all to Mikado.
To be precise, it was the very fact that he was shocked at being described as just a human that was so shocking to him.
What…am I?
I just have an admiration for the extraordinary.
There’s no need for me to be extraordinary myself…
Amid his confusion, Mikado recalled Anri’s words: “If you hurt him, you will pay.”
…She protected me.
I intended to keep her safe, and she was the one doing it for me…
…I knew this would happen.
She took down those three punks in just a second…
…No, what am I thinking?
That’s not what I want to say.
Wait—
Weird…
Then, what was I… What was I…trying to think about…?
Mikado assumed that he was still confused by that sudden flash moments ago.
But even as he tried to tell himself that, Anri’s words echoed in his head.
“I am only a parasite.”
…What was she saying?
I seem to recall some statement to that effect when we first met…
But…she’s not latched onto Harima anymore…
At this point, a dark urge rose within him again.
But unlike the scorn he felt for the man who kicked him earlier, this was anger at himself.
If anyone’s a parasite…it’s me.
Just for starting up the Dollars, he felt like he was special, despite being unable to accomplish anything for himself. He didn’t think that he viewed himself as special, but the truth was clear now.
Their mysterious attacker labeled him “just a human” and essentially ignored him, wrote him off. And that realization was a hurtful insult like no other.
I’m such…a pathetic creep…
He began to feel sorry for himself.
And yet, Mikado stood up, hoping there was still something he could do.
The light that blinded his eyes faded, bit by bit.
When his eyesight was functional enough to see again…
There was a man dressed as a bartender, hoisting a motorcycle on his shoulder.
“…?! Sh-Shizuo?!”
“Ahh…right, right. You’re what’s-his-name. Celty’s friend…Ryuugasaki? I met you when we had that hot-pot party at Shinra’s place.”
“Th-that’s me. But…it’s Ryuugamine.”
“Hmm? Oh, right, right. Sorry.”
The sudden appearance of the strongest man in Ikebukuro nearly knocked Mikado for a loop. He was h
oisting the bike over his shoulder with all the cool effort of a dancer holding a boom box.
The living legend tangled Mikado in even more strings of confusion, but Shizuo’s voice was cold enough to dash his overheating brain.
“Uh, anyway. You’re in the Dollars, too, right?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, yes!”
“Right… It doesn’t seem right not to tell anyone, so given that you’re my junior from Raira, I might as well tell you…”
Mikado nodded firmly to express his attention. Shizuo looked downcast, slightly apologetic.
“I’m off the Dollars now. That’s all—spread the word.”
Huh?
“…Huh?” Mikado’s internal confusion made its way directly out of his mouth. “Wh-why?!”
“You saw that message. I don’t wanna breathe the same air as guys who’d take women hostage. It’s that simple,” he said and strode forward.
“So now that I’ve told you, I’m going to consider myself to have no relation to the Dollars whatsoever.”
Mikado couldn’t stop him. All he could do was wait for his eyesight to clear up.
He was praying that the conversation he just heard—that everything that had happened in this crazy day—was nothing but a dream.
Behind the athletic storehouse
“Huh? Is that Anri?”
The woman in the riding suit and the girl with the katana had appeared out of nowhere. Few noticed the two in the midst of all the other chaos, but some did. Yumasaki had gone to free the hostage girls around the back, and when he came back, he was surprised to recognize the girl fighting with the sword.
Fortunately for Anri, this was after Rio Kamichika ran off with her friends.
“Whoa, that’s Anri,” murmured Karisawa, who was also returning from seeing Kadota back to the fight.
Her acquaintance was fighting with a katana, eyes blazing red.
Either through sheer coincidence or some psychic soul link, both Yumasaki and Karisawa, despite not being in audible range of each other, simultaneously muttered, “Shakugan no Shana?”
* * *
“What an incredible twist of fate. Anri’s a Flame Haze…,” Yumasaki marveled, wildly incorrect.
Durarara!!, Vol. 6 Page 17